My Big Fat Jewish Wedding
by bloodrosered
Summary: Kyle Broflovski tells his story: Kosher, Hanukkah, and a meddling Jewish mother who keeps telling him one thing: find a Jewish girl to marry. However, Kyle meets the girl of his dreams who is perfect in every way...but not Jewish.
1. Graduation

My Big, Fat Jewish Wedding

_Disclaimer: all characters and events in this novel--even those based on real people--are entirely fictional. The following novel contains coarse language and due to its content it should not be read by anyone._

One

_Graduation_

My name is Kyle Broflovski. I'm 18-years-old. I'm Jewish. I have red curly hair that's in this stupid Jew fro, which I really hate. I always keep it hidden under my hat. I have hazel eyes. I look just like my father, but I have my mother's Jewish nose.

"Kyle, you should find a nice Jewish girl to marry soon," my Mom says all the time.

My mom has been saying that since I was fifteen years old. There are only three things Jewish boys do in life: find a good paying job, marry Jewish girls and make Jewish babies.

I'm about to graduate from South Park High. Graduation was only a week away. And Mom wants me to find a think about marrying a Jewish girl. I'm 18! Why should I be thinking about marriage? She can be annoying sometimes.

I was very excited about graduation. Stan was going to play music with his band: he would play guitar, Kenny on drums, and Token on bass. Mr. Mackey knocked on the door.

"Kyle Broflovski, please come to the principal's office, mmkay?"

I looked up as soon as my name was called; I was nervous. What did I do this time? Perhaps Cartman blamed me for something that he did. He is such a dumb ass! I opened the door and looked at Principal Victoria. She was old and was planning to retire this year.

"Kyle Broflovski," she said. "I have some great news for you. Since your grade point average was the highest amongst your classmates, I have decided to make you valedictorian."

I was shaking and a smile cracked along my face.

"Really? Valedictorian?"

"Yes. That means you have to give a speech in front of the entire class and their parents."

"Oh…" I didn't really like giving speeches. I didn't have the confidence that my father have nor my mother's determination, yet I remembered many times how I gave inspirational speeches to complete strangers such as the time my brother, Ike, was taken back to Canada, the time I gave an inspiring speech about how large corporations are good, etc. "OK. I guess I can do that."

"Good. Congratulations, Kyle."

XXXXX

At lunch, I told my friends, Stan and Kenny what had happened in Principal Victoria's office.

"Wow, dude!" said Stan. "Valedictorian! I'm so jealous."

"What's going on?" Cartman said.

Stan and I rolled their eyes. Cartman was a fat kid who took the habit of hanging around the three of us because he had no friends himself. He was such an asshole sometimes.

"Kyle was made valedictorian," said Stan.

"You can't be valedictorian!" yelled Cartman. "You're a Jew!"

"Shut up, fat ass!" I said, annoyed.

"Ay! I'm not fat! I'm just big boned!"

"I'm excited about graduation," said Stan. "I can't wait to get out of South Park High and go to college."

"Mmph-mmph-mmph," Kenny said.

"You won't be going to college, Kenneh," said Cartman. "'Cuz your family is so poor."

"Mmph-mmph!" Kenny said, angrily.

"Yea, Cartman," I said. "Kenny can go to college. He just needs to apply for financial aid."

"Mmph-mmph-mmph."

"It's a good thing you got a job and saved up all your money," said Stan.

"Mmph," he said, nodding.

"So, what are you and Wendy going to do since you're both going to different colleges, Stan?" I asked.

"Well, Wendy's going to Colorado College and I'm going to South Park College, we'll still see each other on the weekends," said Stan. "We'll chat online. We bought webcams for our computers. Are you going to Colorado College, Kyle?"

"Nah. I'm going to SP College. First, I want to figure out what I want to do. Then, maybe I'll transfer to Colorado College."

"Cool, dude! Maybe we can be roommates!"

I smiled. "Yea, that'd be cool."

"My mom says there are a lot of black people at South Park College," said Cartman.

"Shut up, Cartman!"

He could be such an asshole.

XXXXX

As soon as I got home, I told Mom and Dad.

"Oh, bubbie!" Mom said. "I'm so proud of you."

She was soon smothering me with hugs and kisses, choking me. Her huge beehive hair smelt like hairspray, which would suffocate me and her red lipstick smeared all over my face. I felt like I was nine years old again where my mother would smother me all the time just for getting a stupid A on a test or a project.

"OK, Mom," I said. "You're going to make me swallow my tongue."

She tried to wipe the smeared red lipstick off of my face, unsuccessfully. My Dad hugged me as well.

"Well done, son," he said, patting me on the head. "Maybe we should work on your speech tonight that way you can have it done and not have to worry about it."

"I know," I sighed.

I went up to my room, looking at index cards, thinking of what to write. I know that at graduations that everyone is supposed to talk about the past and the future. It's really stupid to write a speech! Not really much to talk about in school: same people, same shit, just different days. Every time I tried to write something, it just sounded stupid and I tossed the paper into the trash. God dammit! Stupid valedictorian speech!

XXXXX

Graduation was today. I got up very early that morning, showered, and brushed my teeth. Mom had pressed my good suit that I wore when we went to Jewish mass. As I was about to put on my hat…

"Oh no, Kyle!" Mom said. "No hats! Graduation is supposed to be formal. The only hat you wear is your mortarboard."

"But Mom!" I said. "You know how I feel about my hair!"

"Kyle, it's not that bad. You look very handsome. Let me brush it."

I groaned, annoyed. I hate my hair! She brushed my hair, her fingers running through those awful curls that never seemed to untangle. I wanted to scream every time she reached a gnarl, but held them back and tears began to prick my eyes from the pain as hair was yanked at my scalp. She rubs mousse in my hair.

"Mom, just why are you putting this stuff in my hair?" I demanded.

"It'll make your hair nice and shiny, bubbie," she said. I swear she treats me like a kid. It's so annoying!

"Sheila, for God sake!" my Dad said. "Don't put that stuff in his hair! It's not necessary!"

"Gerald, I want our little man to look so handsome."

"He looks handsome enough. Honestly, Sheila, you need to have a little girl!"

My mother had a twinkle in her eye. "Well, that's not a bad idea, Gerald."

"Mom, are you done now?" I asked.

"Ooh!" said Ike, my little brother, who was now twelve, imitating an effeminate voice. "Kyle, you look so handsome." He batted his beady eyes.

"Shut up, Ike!"

"Kyle, be nice to your brother!" scolded my Mom.

I rolled my eyes. She handed me a tie and was about to tie it.

"Sheila, let me do this," said Gerald. "This is a guy thing."

My Dad tied my tie. He was already starting to grey in his brown hair. I was glad that my Dad was doing this because I was getting sick of my Mom fussing over me.

"There you go," he said. "That's not too tight?"

"No, it's fine," I said.

He nodded. He hugged me again. "I'm very proud of you, son."

"Thanks, Dad."

XXXXX

Soon, we arrived at South Park High School, dressed in my green robe and mortarboard with a gold lapel, the school colors. It was atrocious! I looked so stupid.

"Hey, dude," said Stan. He was carrying his guitar case. Apparently, his parents made him take off his hat. His thick, shaggy mop of black hair was combed neatly, slick with hair gel that his Mom had probably did. He looked very annoyed as well. "Your mom made you take off your hat too?"  
"Yea," I said.

"Hey, Jew!" said Cartman. His brown hair was combed with hair gel as well. His gown was already covered with crumbs of Cheesy Poofs already. It was so typical of Cartman! I rolled my eyes. "Nice hair!" He laughed so hard and pointed at my hair. I wish I could pull my mortarboard over my stupid hair.

"Shut up, fat ass!" I said.

"I'm not fat! I'm buff!"

Soon, Kenny showed up. He was still wearing his parka hood and a blue suit.

"Mmph mph," he said.

"Hey, Kenny," we said.

"Hey, fellas!" said Butters. His blonde hair had also been combed to the side with hair gel.

"Hey, Butters," said Stan. "I'll meet you later with Token so we can practice before we start."  
"Alright," he said.

Stan disappeared to meet with his band. I was in the boys' room, pacing back and forth, looking at the speech that I had spent all week writing. My heart was pounding very hard and my hands were sweating and shaking.

"Hey, Jew boy," Cartman sneered from the stall. "You're gonna chicken out. I knew that Jews were cowards. Principal Victoria shouldn't have elected you valedictorian."

"Shut up, fat ass!" I said. "Then, who do you think should've been valedictorian?"

"I should! I'd probably give a better speech than you. Let me see what you wrote."

"Go away, asshole! I need to be alone."

"Fifteen minutes until the graduation commences," said the intercom. "Fifteen minutes until graduation commences."

"Geez, touchy, are we?" said Cartman.

He walked out of the bathroom. I splashed water on my face. I still wasn't feeling well. I swear I was going to throw up. I breathed slowly. I had to stay calm.

XXXXX

We got in line from A to Z. I was in the Bs. Cartman was right behind me. Typical! Of all people I had to sit next to, it had to be the fat asshole who constantly made my life a living hell. He whispered in an annoying sing-song voice, "You're gonna chicken out!" I wanted to punch him in the stomach.

"And now," said Principal Victoria. "We now present to you, the class of South Park High School."

The band began to play and the entire class marched into the gym, families were applauding and holding up cameras, flashes blinding us and video cameras blinking red lights. I saw my Mom, sobbing into a handkerchief, and my dad holding up a video camera. I smiled, trying to look happy. Cartman's fat stomach was poking me in the ass, almost making me fall down. Jesus! Could he get any fatter? We took our seats. Cartman took up the entire bench that I had to sit on the very edge, the metal corner poking my ass. Stupid Cartman!

"And now," said Principal Victoria. "We will commence with a speech from our valedictorian, Kyle Broflovski."

I was shaking already, but I remembered all those inspirational speeches I gave after learning something. I reached into my pocket to read my cards…huh? They were gone! I looked around the floor and then…I saw Cartman holding my cards in his hand, sticking his tongue out, smiling evilly. That asshole! I was about to dive after him and yank them out when I watched in horror as he tore them apart into little pieces.  
"You…" I snarled.

"Is there a problem, Kyle?" asked Principal Victoria.

"Erm…no," I said. "None at all." I stepped up to the podium, looking at all the thousands of eyes that were staring at me, waiting for me. I couldn't remember most of my speech, but I remembered how confident I was all those times in my childhood.

"Graduation," I began. "Defined as a ceremony of conferring degrees or diplomas, as at a college or school. Often, graduation is a rite of passage: leaving the past behind and entering the future. Leaving behind your childhood and entering adulthood. Leaving behind high school and entering college and soon enough, the work force."  
"Lame," Cartman coughed.

"Every rite of passage is often a celebration. Growing up Jewish, I often experienced many rites of passages: my bris when I was born. Boy, that was a painful experience that I don't want to remember…Mom coming after me with the scissors."

Everybody laughed at my joke.

"Stupid Jew!" Cartman sneezed.

I knew he was trying to screw me up and piss me off. "And my bar mitzvah when I turned 13. That was my favorite: food, cake, and lots of dancing. However, I find today to be a great rite of passage. Celebrating the passing of my childhood and into adulthood. As I look back on my childhood, I have many happy memories in Mr. Garrison's 3rd and 4th grade classes: coming in, listening to his ridiculous lessons that we all knew we would never need in life…" People laughed. "Making fun of Mr. Mackey when he gave us lectures on how 'drugs are bad, mmkay?' But the most I remember was the playground, playing with my best friends. When I entered middle and high school, I realized that my childhood had gone by so quickly, yet I cherish every moment because I know I have lived my childhood as best I could. I am happy to say that I look forward to the future: going off to college and becoming successful, making my family proud and having a family. I would like to thank Mom and Dad and Ike for their support and love, my best friend, Stan and Kenny. The class of South Park High, I will always remember you and will miss you when I leave. I wish you the best of luck."

The audience burst into applause after my speech. I felt proud. I really didn't need those stupid cards anyway. I stuck my tongue out at Cartman, who was pouting because his plan to ruin my graduation speech hadn't succeeded. Stupid asshole!

Soon, there were more speeches from staff members. It was boring and it was hot and stuffy in the gym that it made me sleepy. Soon, Stan and his band played. Finally, it was time to hand out the diplomas. I heard the names being called like a buzz of bees.

"Token Black."

Token got up from his seat and received his diploma, smiling and waving at his parents. He shook hands and sat back down. More names were being called.

"Kyle Broflovski."

I stood up and received my diploma from Principal Victoria. My Mom was sobbing into a handkerchief while my Dad was waving to me, videotaping. Ike was clapping as well, smiling.  
"YAY, KYLE!" he yelled.

"Eric Cartman."

Cartman got up, his fat chest puffed out like an egomaniac. His mom was snapping pictures of him, sobbing. He accepted his diploma and shook hands with Principal Victoria.

"Clyde Donavan."

"Timmy."

Timmy came up in his wheelchair. "Timmy!" he shouted. Principal Victoria patted him on the head.

"Stanley Marsh!" Stan received his diploma and smiled at his parents, sat down.

"Kenny McCormick!" Kenny walked up with determination to get his diploma and held it up so his parents could see and they were smiling and clapping. He shook hands with Principal Victoria and sat down.

More kids were called:

"Annie Polk!"

"Leopold Stotch!" Butters went up to get his diploma, looking very nervous and his parents were smiling at him, videotaping him. He smiled shyly as he received his diploma.

"Bebe Stevens!"

"Wendy Testaburger!" Stan cheered loudly and she smiled. After she received her diploma, she walked over to Stan and he kissed her.

"Craig Tucker!"

"Heidi Turner!"

Soon, the graduation was over.

"We congratulate the graduates of South Park High!"

The band played the 'Alma Mater'. Soon, thousands of mortarboards were tossed up in the air and there were wild cheers in the crowd.

Now that it was over, I actually kind of missed high school already…I didn't realize it would be over so soon…


	2. Graduation Parties

Two

_Graduation Parties_

After graduation, my Mom planned to throw a big graduation party. My mom encouraged me to go to as many as possible because she had lots of dishes to cook; mine would be later tonight. She was in the kitchen, calling relatives…and when I say relatives, I mean every member of my Jewish family on BOTH sides. As you can see, being Jewish, we tend to have big families who are loud and constantly eating. Basically an easier way to put it: a dysfunctionpalooza.

Also, being Jewish, we have neurotic mothers who are constantly feeding you even though you don't want to eat (it's no wonder most of them are fat) and always planning extravagant parties that aren't necessary. For example, for my brother, Ike's bris, she put out guest towels in the bathroom, which nobody in our family is allowed to touch and brought out china that we never used normally, and of course, putting plastic on the couch.

As for food, we're constantly eating Kosher: some examples are knishes, matzah balls in soup, etc. My Mom is always in the kitchen, making Kosher food. I like eating Kosher, but when you know you've had enough, Mom's just going to plop more on your plate and the one problem is that she never takes 'no' for an answer. She will be like:

"Kyle, you haven't touched your knish!" "Kyle, have more gefilte fish!" "Kyle, here's another serving of latkes!"

I'm surprised that I haven't gotten fat from having all that food shoved on my plate.

XXXXX

The first party I went to was Cartman's party, which was right after the graduation ceremony and it was in his basement. I didn't want to go, but my Mom said that since it was going to be the last time I was going to see everybody. I would be glad to get away from Cartman when college started.

When I showed up, I saw that not very many people showed up. I wasn't surprised since Cartman didn't have very many friends because everybody hated him. Butters, of course, had shown up with a hamburger casserole. I showed up with some embarrassing Jewish dish, which I knew Cartman was going to make fun of anyway.

"Oh! Hello, Kyle," said Mrs. Cartman, smiling. "Thanks for coming to Eric's graduation party! My, that looks yummy! You can put your dish over on the table."

"Thanks," I said. I was surprised that an awful demon seed named Eric Cartman came from such a nice, wonderful lady like Mrs. Cartman.

"You can tell your mother that I said thank you."

"I will."

Cartman's mom made chili, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, fried chicken, cake and pie: all fatty, junky food. I wasn't surprised that Cartman was diabetic when he turned twelve since all he ate was junk food and ate almost huge meals everyday and yet his Mom _still_ stuffed his face even though his doctors had warned her not to feed him junk food. I was surprised he didn't die from diabetic shock. Being diabetic, I had to watch what I ate most of the time. However, since I exercised a lot and ate healthy Kosher foods, so it wasn't too bad…perhaps I could make an exception today.

"Oh, hello, Kyle!" Cartman said, mockingly, spraying me all over with food. He stuck his fat, disgusting, grubby fingers in all the snacks and stuffed his face. It was really disgusting! "Say, what's that you brought?" He sniffed it and made a disgusted face. "Urgh! What is that, last-night's vomit?"

"Shut up, asshole!"

"Whatever, Jew boy!" He chugged a beer.

"Beer? You have beer?" I said incredulously. "You can't buy beer, fat ass! You're only 18!"

"Of course I can. With this!" He showed me his wallet, which had a driver's license. I looked closely and saw that his date of birth was a different year.

"Dude, you have a fake ID?" said Stan.

"Mmph-mmmph-mppmph?" said Kenny.

"Oh, I'm not telling," he said in an annoying sing song voice. "Oh? Is that jealousy I see in your eye, Kyle? Yes, drown me in the sweetness of your envy."

"Shut up, fat ass! Having a fake ID is stupid!"

"Shut up, Jew rat! Having a fake ID is cool! You're just jealous that you can't buy beer!"

"Jealous of what? That I can buy beer so I can be a drunk, stupid asshole?"

"Whatever!" He chugged his beer and belched in my face.

I moved away from him because I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I sat with Stan, hoping to talk to him, but he was making out with Wendy. I stood in the corner, talking to Kenny; sure, we weren't really friends, but it was better than watching your best friend suck face with his girlfriend.

I was jealous of Stan because he had a girlfriend. He and Wendy even did it already…he wouldn't say when I asked. I was still a virgin. I planned on waiting until I met the right girl…and of course, she had to be Jewish, said my Mom.

"So, what are you doing for your graduation party?" Cartman said, interrupted. His breath smelled like beer and Cheesy Poofs. He sprayed me with food.

"Well, for starters, you're not invited," I said.

"What?! Everybody is invited to a graduation party, even if you don't like them."

"Well, not mine! You're just going to rip on everyone there!"

"Ah, screw you, Jew! I'm not coming anyway! Besides, I have lots of beer that I'll bring."

"Don't bother because you're not invited…and if you did, you would get me in trouble."

"Good. Maybe it's time to be a bad boy, Kyle. Have a beer."

"No!"

"Fine, Jew rat! Be a pussy! I don't care!"

"Hey, fellas!" said Butters.

"Hey, Butters," said Cartman. "Have a beer!"

"Oh…um, I'm not sure I should. My parents will ground me if they find out that I was drinking beer."

"Well, I see you and Kyle have something in common: you're both pussies!"

"Shut up, Cartman! You leave Butters alone!" I turned to Butters. "Don't listen to Cartman. He's being an asshole."

"Oh, come on! Have a beer, Jew!" he said, tossing me a beer. I saw that all eyes were on me. Even Stan and Kenny were drinking. I was shaking and sweating; thousands of thoughts ran through my head. "Come on, pussy! Chug!"

I sipped the beer. It was really gross. It was really warm and I almost threw up. Suddenly was a burst of laughter: Cartman was laughing and pointing at me.

"Like your pale ale, Kyle?" He was rolling on the floor laughing.

I spit it out. I smelled it and sure enough, it smelled like bleach! Oh my GOD!

"SICK, DUDE!" I yelled.

"What happened?" asked Stan.

"I gave Kyle a pale ale!" Cartman said laughing.

"Dude, that's not cool!" said Stan.

"Mmph!" Kenny agreed.

"Come on, guys," I said. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

I went to as many as possible, including Stan's. His was pretty cool. Of course, his parents had a barbeque in a buffet style: everyone had to bring their own dish. His dad, Randy, was in the backyard, dumping beer on hamburgers, hot dogs, and steak. His mom made steamed vegetables, salad, and ricearoni.

Soon, my graduation party was ready. Everybody pretty much showed up, a majority was my Jewish relatives on both sides of my family: some of them were already chatting away, chowing down on Kosher, and some were chatting wildly in Hebrew that I didn't know what the hell they were saying. My great-aunt, Anna, came all the way from Germany because…well, we weren't weird enough. Great-aunt Anna was extremely sensitive that she rarely visited: for example, she and my grandma, Cleo, got into a fight because she married my grandfather and refused to speak to her for almost ten years. She wouldn't even see my Mom when she was a little girl. It took them almost ten years just for my grandma and her to make up. I watched as they were chatting rapidly in German. I didn't know what they were saying.

My friends showed up as well: Stan brought a salad, Kenny brought fried chicken from some fast food restaurant, since that's all his parents could afford. Butters brought a hamburger casserole. Craig brought some Irish dish that I didn't know what it was, but it smelled really good. Clyde brought potato salad. Token brought some expensive dish that probably their personal chef prepared. I enjoyed my party.

"Hey, DUDES!" said Cartman's dreadful voice. He apparently had too many drinks: he stunk of beer and was covered in crumbs. It was a disgusting sight to see.

"Cartman, get out!" I yelled. "You weren't invited!"

"Hey, Kyle, chill!" he said. "It's a graduation party! Everybody is invited!"

Soon, he was sticking his hands in all the snacks and stuffing his face; crumbs were all over his red jacket and his face. It was so disgusting. My relatives stared in horror at the sight of this fat kid and his horrible behavior.

"Kyle, who is your little friend?" said my uncle, Murray, disgusted.

"He's no friend of mine," I said, humiliated. "He's just a stupid party-crasher."

"Ew!" he screamed. "Gross! This stuff smells like dog crap!"

Great-aunt Anna gasped and she yelled at Cartman in German.

"Ah, screw you, Jew bitch!" he yelled, drunk.

"Was-was-WAS!" Great-aunt Anna screamed. (My mom told me this means 'what' in German. The W is pronounced like V.)

All of my relatives stared in horror and shock when they heard this. I was so angry and embarrassed!

"Cartman, get out of my house!" I yelled. "You're ruining my party!"

"Shut your goddamn Jew mouth!" I yelled. "I go wherever I want! It's graduation!"  
"Eric," said my Mom. "I think you'd better leave now before I call the police!"

"Ah, suck my balls!" he yelled.

Before he could get any worse, he stood up, drinking his beer.

"All you Jews are rats!" he said. He ranted on and on, saying every anti-Semitic slur in the book in front of all of my Jewish relatives, who stood there, horrified. Many people were looking at me as if this kid was my friend. Sooner or later, he was pointing at all my Jewish relatives, calling them every horrible anti-Semitic name in the book. I wanted to die…or better yet, I wanted Cartman to die!

"Oh, by the way, Kyle drank beer at my party!" he blurted out.

"SHUT UP, CARTMAN!" I yelled.

"Kyle!" said my Dad. "Is that true?"

I was turning redder and redder as all of my Jewish relatives were staring at me. Cartman had officially ruined my graduation party, the best day of my life with his boorish behavior. First, Cartman crashed my party by showing up when I made it clear that he wasn't invited. Not only that, he showed up drunk. Then, he ate all of our food that my Mom spent hours cooking, he insulted my German Jewish aunt in front of everybody, called my relatives horrible names, and then, he told everyone that I drank beer.

I couldn't hold back my anger anymore. I went over to Cartman and socked him as hard as I could in the stomach. He went down like a sack of doorknobs. Soon, I began punching and kicking him, screaming at how much I hated him.

"KYLE! STOP IT!" my Dad yelled, pulling me off.

He forced me off of Cartman; he lied on the floor, coughing; his face red and there were tears streaming down his face, clasping his fat stomach. Blood streamed from his nose.

"I HATE YOU!" I screamed.

"You are grounded, young man!" said my Mom.

I was so angry at Cartman! I wanted to kill him! After the party was over, my Great-aunt Anna was screaming at me in German: even though I didn't know what the hell she was saying, but in a way I had an idea of what she was saying.

Soon, my Mom and Dad gave me a lecture about why underage drinking was bad, which I didn't really need to hear because they already had this stupid talk with me. It was so stupid! Cartman was such an asshole! I sat in my room, angry that I didn't kill him fast enough.

"It wasn't my fault!" I said. "Cartman was the one who gave me the beer! He pressured me! His mom even ordered a keg for his party. Plus, he gave me a pale ale!"

"What is that?" asked my father.

I told him this, knowing this reference from _American Pie_ where one of the kids put spooge in a beer and Stifler drank it.

"What-what-WHAT?!" my Mom screamed.

"Sheila, calm down," said my Dad. "You know how hard it is not to give into peer pressure."

"That's no excuse, Gerald. He still drank beer. I'm calling Mrs. Cartman and going to give that woman a piece of my mind," she said. "As for you, Kyle. Go to your room. You are not allowed to drive the car for a week."

I sighed as I went up to my room, angry. I heard my Mom screaming on the phone to Cartman's mom downstairs. The thought of hearing my Mom scream at Cartman's mom was good enough revenge for me. Of course, I knew Cartman's mom wouldn't do anything because she spoiled him constantly. I could still hear my Great-aunt Anna's voice screaming in German in my head as I lied down to sleep that night.

I couldn't wait to leave South Park to get away from Cartman.


End file.
